


Becoming

by remi_wolf



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical The Slaughter Content (The Magnus Archives), Fights, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicidal Thoughts, Knife fights, Knives, Mentioned Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Mentioned Basira Hussain, Mentioned Danny Stoker, Mentioned Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Minor Original Character(s), Post-The Unknowing (The Magnus Archives), Profanity, Slaughter Avatar Melanie King, Slaughter Avatar Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Stabbing, Suicidal Thoughts, Swearing, The Slaughter Fear Entity (The Magnus Archives), Throwing Objects At People, Violence, Whump, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:21:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27205153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remi_wolf/pseuds/remi_wolf
Summary: Tim didn't want to survive the Unknowing. He wanted to destroy the Circus, and then that would be that. He'd be freed of his stupid contract with Elias, even if he still wanted to get his revenge on him, and he'd be free of Jon, even if he hated his guts. When he wakes up in a pile of rubble with the Circus' calliope screaming in his head, it certainly doesn't put him in a good mood at all, and especially not when he finds out that Jon's the only other survivor, and he finds out that he's still employed at the Archives, and especially when Melanie keeps accusing him ofsingingwhich he'snot. He just wants everything to be quiet, or at least to hear some different music after all of this.Whumptober 2020: Day 25. Prompt: Disorientation, Ringing Ears.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7
Collections: Beguilements and Distractions, Remi's Whumptober Collection for 2020, Whumptober 2020





	Becoming

**Author's Note:**

> Please be sure to mind the tags. Tim's not in a good place, he's lashing out at everyone, and while he only verbally lashed out at people in the third season of The Magnus Archives, he's now doing so in a more physical manner. This includes throwing things, screaming at people, and ultimately assaulting them with a deadly weapon. This is an exploration of Tim becoming a Slaughter Avatar, so I don't want anyone going into it unaware. Thank you!

Tim groaned quietly as he opened his eyes, trying to figure out where he was, what was happening. Everything was so loud around him, and he couldn’t entirely hear what was happening, and he could still hear the ghost of the circus music if he didn’t focus on the sirens blaring and screaming into his head. His entire body ached, and burned, and he took a deep breath before pushing a beam off of his chest. 

“Shit, is there movement?”

Tim blinked as he looked up, not sure where the voice was coming from. Did some of the Stranger’s pawns survive? He couldn’t tell what was going on, but it wasn’t in the same Unknowing, unravelling way that the world had been in earlier. This was simply pain, with ears ringing from sirens, and body pulsing with heat. He looked up before wincing as a flashlight hit his face. 

“Holy shit, we’ve got a live one down here!”

“What?”

“Just saw them move! Come on, get a stretcher, we gotta get him out of there!”

Tim groaned quietly, trying to reach as he looked up at them. He couldn’t _entirely_ get his body to move, though rather than simply being unable to feel his lower body, the slight movements had him feeling an odd tug. Maybe he had fallen onto something and it caught him. He wasn’t sure, but at least he could move a bit. 

“Help, please. There’s—” Tim coughed before looking back around the mess. Somehow, he had ended up in a strangely bare area, though how that had happened when he had thought he had been on the stage, he wasn’t sure. “There’s other people, too. I wasn’t alone when everything exploded, or something.”

“Fuck, more?”

“What’s that, Annie?”

The EMT looked at Tim before glancing back up at the hole they were trying to crawl into in order to get to Tim. “Guy’s awake! Says there’s more in the rubble.”

“Fuck..."

“I know, man, alright? But this needs more people. Call to see who else can come in.” The EMT glanced down at Tim again, taking a deep breath. “I’m going to try to help, alright? How you feeling? Feeling all ten toes? Hands seem to be doing good.”

Tim sighed softly, closing his eyes and trying not to get too mad. The EMT was doing his job. But _honestly_ , how did they think he was doing? He was stuck in rubble, when he had wanted to die and find his brother again, and get out of a literal dead-end job, and he was impaled on _something_ , so he couldn’t move, even if he wanted to. “Fine. Feeling just fine.” He couldn’t help the sarcasm laid into the four words, and he glanced back up at the EMT. “Can you just get me out?”

“Getting there. Honestly, it’s a miracle you’re alive, alright? We need to be careful that we don’t change it any time soon at all.” The EMT smiled faintly at Tim before finally making it down next to him, looking over the damaged area. “It’s an absolute miracle. When we got the call that this place—”

“Can you get me the fuck out of this place?”

The EMT blinked, almost taken aback, but they nodded. “Right, I’m getting there. Like I said, though, we’ve got to be careful with this.” The EMT shifted, looking over Tim before putting a neck brace around his neck, keeping Tim from shifting too much, as well as turning his head at all. Probably for the best, to be honest. 

Tim sighed, closing his eyes as he tried to ignore the pounding in his ears, though that only made the tinny calliope circus music even louder in his head. He needed something to stop, and he hummed quietly under his breath, trying to get himself to keep from snapping at the EMT that refused to actually shut up and do their job. 

At least it didn’t take long before he fell unconscious again, and he didn’t have to hear the inane chatter any longer. 

* * *

“What the fuck do you mean, you only found one other person in there?” Tim couldn’t help but shout as he banged his fist against the table. The doctor in the room, hovering in the corner immediately took a step forward before Tim stopped him with a glare. “There were at least three other people there. Jonathan _fucking_ Sims, Basira Hussain, and Daisy Tonner. And I distinctly remember at least a dozen other people. I don’t know who any of them were, but they were there. How did you only find _Jon_ of all people?”

Jon had been at the center of the explosion. He had wanted Jon to die just as much as he wanted to die as well. And it would have helped to keep Jon from becoming any more of a monster than he already was. This was ridiculous, and when the detective simply hummed and hawed and twisted his hat in his hands, Tim threw the tray on the bedside table at him. The water glass went flying, along with the oral painkillers Tim was supposed to take, even if they weren’t working at all. None of the painkillers so much as dulled the pain. 

“Get the fuck out! Leave me alone, you fucking imbecile! I can’t believe they fucking call you a detective!” Tim wanted to get up, wanted to pull himself out of the bed and punch the detective, cave his face in like he knew that there had to be people in the rubble looking like. They had to be there. Was Danny’s body there, and not found underneath the layers of building and wax? How many parents, siblings, lovers were buried in a grave of wax and circus music and even though the detective and doctor left, Tim couldn’t help but scream. 

The circus was still spiraling in his head. The music never stopped, and it was still there, and he couldn’t get. it. to. stop. 

He took a shaking breath, hands curled tight on his lap. His body ached. Maybe he ripped the stitches open again, or something equally as horrible. It wouldn’t be the first time that he did something like that at all. 

After three deep breaths hissed out between his teeth, he reached for his new phone, putting the earbuds in his ears and flipped the music on as loud as he could stand. Perhaps the electric guitars and bagpipes would get the circus to _finally_ leave him alone. 

* * *

“Timothy, it’s a pleasure to meet you. My name is Peter Lukas. I’ll be your new supervisor.”

Tim couldn’t help the quiet snarl as he looked at Lukas before glancing over at Martin for some sort of explanation for all this. 

“He’s the new acting Head of the Institute, while Elias is arrested and in jail. Technically we’re all still employed, and...everything else is still a thing, even if Elias isn’t physically in the Institute,” Martin said, voice soft and quiet as he looked up at Tim. He fussed and played with his cuffs, as though he didn’t even realize what he was doing, and it was _stupid_ , this was all so _stupid._ Why couldn’t he just be left alone in peace? He couldn’t even be in the hospital for a week without the Institute deciding to come breathe down his neck again. 

“Leave me the fuck alone.”

“Oh, now, that’s no way to address your new boss!”

“I said fuck. off.” Tim raised an eyebrow, looking at Lukas before huffing a quiet laugh. “Or would you like me to make you leave? I’ll get back there eventually, and not a moment before.”

“Tim..."

“You too, Martin.” Tim’s eyes snapped back to Martin’s, and he wished he could see Martin as the innocent kid that he used to be, but he wasn’t. Honestly, Martin was just as awful as Jon was at times, or Basira. Always trying to make the best of everything, or figure something out, or apologizing and covering up for people, and Tim _hated_ it. He hated the sight of Martin, and part of him hated that even more. 

“Oh. Well, now isn’t that interesting? Elias never told me that.”

Tim’s attention returned to Peter, heartbeat ringing in his ears, blood pounding, and he wanted to rip Peter apart. The man was larger than him, at least in how broad he was, if not a few inches, but that didn’t mean that Tim wouldn’t be able to do a decent amount of damage while he could. 

“I think that’s my cue to leave. Goodbye, Tim. I expect you at work on Monday.”

“Monday! But he’s—”

“Oh, Martin. I think he’ll be just fine on Monday.”

Tim threw a glass at the door once it closed.

* * *

“Will you _stop_ that fucking singing!”

Tim growled as he looked at Melanie. He had _just_ been in the middle of a perfect run, and she ruined it when she broke his conversation. “I’m not singing! You stop your stupid complaining, I’m not doing anything wrong. Besides, I was here first.”

“Bull _shit_ you were here first! You didn’t come in until noon!”

Tim stood up, throwing his phone aside, not even caring about the crunch he heard. He had already downgraded his phone after he broke three of them. “Really? You think that fucking matters? I’ve been here for _years_. You’re just a stupid bitch who’s didn’t listen when we told you not to sign the fucking contract!”

“And who’s fault is that!” Melanie turned to her desk, picking up one of the heavy staplers and throwing it. “Who’s fault is it that I didn’t know what I was signing up for? Cause it sure as hell wasn’t mine!”

“Fuck off! It’s not my fault you got yourself bound to this shit hole like the rest of us! And I’m not fucking singing!” Tim kicked his chair towards her, forcing her to stumble out of the way or else get the sharp edges jammed into her legs. That damned circus music was louder than ever in Tim’s head, pounding with his heartbeat and forcing any reasonable thought out of his head that might suggest that picking a fight with Melanie was ridiculous. 

At least it seemed as though Melanie seemed to be ignoring whatever similar thoughts were in her own head, and Tim jumped to the side as her chair went flying towards his head. This was ridiculous, and if Melanie could think that she could _honestly_ hurt him in any way that mattered, she clearly needed a lesson taught. His hands closed around something on his desk, the metal cool and familiar, even if he didn’t know what it was, and he went running around the corner of the desks to get at her. 

“Oh, _fuck you_!” Melanie slashed, something harsh and metallic across Tim’s chest. He didn’t care, ducking back before mirroring the motion with one of his own. 

Melanie hissed again, annoyed and loud, and Tim shouted obscenities in return as he took a step towards her. She stepped back, circling around him. Their twinned blades kept flying between them, just barely nicking them or entirely missing them as they danced around the other. When Tim took a step towards Melanie, she took a step back and to the side, and he took a step to the side of his own as she slashed at his arm. 

On and on it went before the pounding in his ears grew to a crescendo, the music manic and taking on a different sensation entirely before he felt something solid against his knife. He gasped, though, his shoulder burning as well.

As quickly as it started, the strange dance between them stopped as they gripped their knives, now hilt-deep in the other person’s chest. 

“Weird.”

“Very,” Tim said, quietly agreeing as he looked at their two wounds, wondering why his head wasn’t spinning as much as it should. He should be bleeding, or hurting, or something, and he pulled his knife free. He swore as Melanie pulled hers free, though it gave him a chance to look at the bleeding wound better. 

His lungs burned and ached, and the deep blue shirt was turning black with the blood that poured from the wound, but Tim wasn’t dizzy. In fact, as he reached a hand up to put some sort of pressure on the wound, it was already stopping. The bleeding seemed to face, along with any sign of any sort of injury, other than a puckered scar. 

At least the music wasn’t so loud in his head, settled into something he could stand. Bagpipes, and electric guitar and riffing violins, all in the back of his head, but he could think and breathe past it. 

“We don’t speak about this again.”

Tim glanced up at Melanie, watching the way she looked at the silver knife covered in ruby ichor, and he nodded. “Never again. Didn’t happen.”

This couldn’t be happening to him.

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully you all enjoyed it! Thank you so much for reading. Comments are always welcome!


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